


Pink Champagne Luck

by FeyduBois



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Heith - Freeform, M/M, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, heith secret valentine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeyduBois/pseuds/FeyduBois
Summary: Keith wants to give his sunshine boy the best Valentine’s day date ever, but it seems like every force in the universe is out to stop him. College AU. Heith with a small side of shallura.Valentine's gift for twohundrednine





	Pink Champagne Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Malevelynce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malevelynce/gifts).



> For twohundrednine for the heith secret Valentine exchange.
> 
> This is a college AU and, though the details don't matter much, here they are: Shiro and Allura are doing master's degrees, Shiro in poly-sci and law, and Allura in biology. Hunk is studying Engineering and he works part-time in a restaurant doing kitchen prep. Keith is in general studies for his first year, but he's taking a lot of art classes. Keith is roommates with Shiro, an old family friend, and Shiro has been dating Allura for several years now. Keith and Hunk are 19 (legal drinking age here), Shiro is 26. Keith is lactose intolerant.
> 
> Warning for cursing.

Keith is glad that this year Valentine’s day fell on a Wednesday because it meant that, besides his 12-15:20 bio 101 class, he had the afternoon to prepare a special dinner for his boyfriend. During said class he could hardly focus as he checked off everything in his agenda. _Ingredients for dinner: check; Roses for the table: check; Chocolate cake for dessert: check; Pink champagne: check._

“Hello? Earth to mullet?” Lance called, proding Keith with his pencil.

“Hmm?” Keith looked up.

“I said, do you want to stay after class to finish our report or do it tomorrow afternoon in the library?”

“Oh, can we do it tomorrow?” Keith asked. They usually did it after class, but since it was Valentine’s day Keith figured “lover boy” Lance would be otherwise preoccupied.

“Sounds good, I’m gonna be sleeping off this cold,” Lance sniffled pointedly. _Oh yeah,_ Keith realized, Lance sounded off, and he looked a little pale too. “Are you doing anything for the special day?”

“Maybe.”

“Oooh, does the master of romance have something planned for his sunshine boy?” Lance was trying to peer at Keith’s notebook.

Keith scowled at Lance using his pet-name for Hunk; only Keith was allowed to call Hunk sunshine boy.

“Pink champagne and chocolate cake?” Lance commented, “You’re going all out, eh?”

“Shut up Lance,” Keith slammed his agenda shut and shoved it under his textbook.

“Kogane,” the professor called, “Do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”

“No Professor Montgomery,” Keith said automatically.

“Then please listen to the requirements for your lab report, unless you want another grade like you got on your last one.”

Keith bristled but went quiet.

***

When Keith got home he cleaned his apartment. His bedsheets had been in the dryer while he was in class and now he took them out and went about remaking his bed with fresh sheets. He had even washed his red and black duvet cover so now he had to get the duvet back inside of the cover. First he had to extract the pillow cases, which somehow always ended up inside of the cover, and then he clasped the corners of the fluffy duvet and climbed inside of the cover, bringing the corners together. Somehow his legs got caught up inside of the laundry basket and he fell onto the bed, still inside of the duvet cover. Feeling confined, Keith panicked briefly and fought the duvet cover. “Argh, stupid fucking piece of…!”

“Keith?” Shiro asked, having heard the commotion. He chuckled and then came in to help Keith out of the duvet cover. Keith huffed, his hair ruffled and cheeks red with embarrassment. “Losing to the linens again bud?”

“Shut up. Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go to Allura’s?”

“I am,” Shiro straightened out his vest and struck a pose. “What do you think?”

Keith looked his roommate up and down. Shiro wore a dark purple dress-shirt, black slacks, and a dark grey, nearly black, vest with tiny silver threads woven into the fabric, all freshly washed and pressed. He was washed and shaved and smelled faintly of cologne.

“You look sharp. I mean, Allura would think you looked good in a potato sack, let’s be honest…”

“I’m taking her to Altea.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. That was an expensive restaurant and their dress code was formal. “Were you thinking about putting a ring on her finally?”

“What?” Shiro stammered, “No! Not yet, I mean. It’s Valentine’s day and I thought we deserved something nice.”

“You are still going to her place after?” Keith asked.

“Yes, don’t worry about us disrupting your big date.”

“Good.” Keith said. Nothing can ruin this day, he thought to himself with a smile.

***

Dinner was to be a red cabbage salad with strawberry balsamic reduction for the dressing, Spanish rice, and a nice wild sockeye salmon half he spotted at the deli yesterday and had been marinating for twelve hours now.  
  
Keith wasn’t nearly as good a chef as his boyfriend, but he knew his way around a knife. He cut the carrots for the salad into little hearts and began preheating the oven. Although he did not need to cook the fish for awhile, their oven took forever to warm up, and the apartment was poorly heated so sometimes he would turn on the oven and open the door to add some heat to the space.  
Shiro thought this was unsafe and forbade it, so he could only do it when Shiro was out, but Shiro had just left and Keith felt chilly today. He wanted to make sure that the baking dish with the salmon would fit in the oven so he popped it in to make sure. It fit fine. Just then the kettle began to boil and he quickly pulled it off to make himself some tea while he worked. He finished cutting the salad and mixed the dressing so the flavours could blend in the fridge, and then started on the rice since it would take awhile to cook.

Halfway through opening a tin of tomatoes the can opener suddenly fell apart in his hands and he fumbled around the cabinets for another one but wasn’t able to find one. With a frown he used the bottle opener attachment on the can-opener to pry open the half of the can and then dumped out the tomatoes. Most of them came out, but there were some left on the bottom so he scraped them with a spoon, and then sliced his thumb deeply on the sharp can rim. An explosion of blood began to pour out of his thumb and Keith swore and grabbed for paper towel to suppress the blood.  


It took forever to stop bleeding. Keith would try to do another task in the kitchen, or remove the thick wad of paper towel, just to find it continuing to drip all over what he was doing. At last he thought it had finished and he wanted to move the chocolate cake from the back of the fridge, where it was hidden from Shiro’s late-night post-nightmare snacking, to somewhere more accessible for when the time came to serve it up. The pressure of the plate on his finger however caused the paper towel to slip off, and blood began to pour onto the cake’s plate. He quickly let go with his right hand, hoping that the left could handle it, but the cake was unbalanced and heavy and it slid off the plate and onto the floor in a pile, and then the plate slid out of his hand as well, shattering on the floor.

“Fuck!” Keith swore.

He examined the ruined cake; there was chocolate cake, raspberry filling, and ganache mixed in with pieces of broken plate and splattered with his own blood. There was no saving any of it.  
With a sigh Keith cleaned up the cake and then washed his hands, at last the bleeding seemed to have slowed and he put two bandages over his thumb to prevent future accidents. He checked the freezer and was glad there was a half box of ice-cream left and he could still serve Hunk dessert, (even if he couldn’t have any himself unless he took a _lactaid_ ).  
“Okay,” Keith said. “This is salvageable.”

  
Keith had a sudden thought and went to make certain he had _lactaid_. He was was disappointed upon discovering there was nothing in the bottle, but couldn’t be too upset because he was the one who put the empty bottle back on the shelf. A growing headache made itself known behind his eyes and while he had the bathroom cabinet open he popped an ibuprofen before going back to the kitchen to finish the preparation.

The food preparation done for now, Keith went to prepare himself. He showered thoroughly, cranking the hot water up high to fight the chill that had settled on him, washed and conditioned his hair, and then stepped out only to slip on the wet floor, landing on his rear and slamming his knee against the side of the tub. Keith groaned. This kind of accident proneness was usually Shiro’s thing, not his. Pulling himself up from the floor to examine his bruised leg he wondered aloud, “Who forgot to put down the goddamn bath mat?”

He recalled the laundry basket in his room full of sheets, towels, and… oh. Right. Keith himself had forgotten to replace the bathmat.

Keith dressed in the clothes he’d prepared, his favourite red satin briefs, tight black jeans, and a dark red, almost burgundy shirt with a white collar that Hunk had given him for Christmas. He tucked the shirt in but didn’t button it all the way up, allowing the top of his chest to peek through as he set about drying his hair and shaving. Where was his freaking razor?

_Oh,_ Shiro had used it, gross. He didn’t want to pick out his roommate’s facial hairs from his razor so he opted to use Shiro’s fancy old-school blade. He didn’t know why Shiro hadn’t used his own, he always claimed the result was much smoother, but it took longer so perhaps he’d been in a hurry.

Of course, Keith wasn’t nearly as good as Shiro was with the straight blade, and he sneezed on the shaving cream at exactly the wrong moment, sending the blade across his cheek. Keith wound up nicking his jawbone rather badly. With a sigh he fumbled around for more bandaids, not realizing until after he’d fixed his face that he’d bled all over the white collar of his shirt.

“Fuck this.”

Keith went back to his room to pick out another shirt. Just as he had done that and pulled on a pair of socks a sudden shrill beeping alerted him to something in the kitchen. He bolted into the kitchen only to find smoke pouring out of the oven and an acrid stench filling the room. He whipped the oven open and went in with an oven mitt to pull out the remains of what was supposed to be his salmon dinner.

“I thought I left this on the counter…” Keith said, coughing on the smoke. He turned off the oven and the smoke alarm, turned on the stove fan, and then went about the apartment opening all of the windows and doors to let the smoke out.

At least he still had the salad and rice Keith thought. Maybe he could fry some eggs to go with it? All the other proteins would take too long to defrost. Keith checked on the rice and frowned; it was still cold?

“Oh…” he realized that the machine wasn’t plugged in. “Fucking Shiro and his power saving OCD.”

He dumped the rice and vegetable medley into a pot and put it on the stove instead. It would cook faster that way, but it wasn’t going to be ready on time. Keith checked the clock; he had half an hour.

He set the table with a lace tablecloth, plates and cutlery, and filled a vase with water. Keith took the roses to the kitchen counter to unwrap. “Ah, shit!” He realized that he should have put them in water earlier. Perhaps they would recover once they were in the water?

Keith dropped the stems into the vase and immediately there were petals everywhere. The roses fell apart in his hands, looking sad even as he pricked a finger on a thorn. He gathered them up on the plastic wrap, ready to cry, pricked finger in his mouth. His nose was running and his eyes stinging, nothing was going right today, nothing!

An idea occurred to him and he experimentally scattered a handful of petals on the table. Huh, that looked pretty. He took the rest and scattered them around his bedroom where he lit vanilla scented candles to attempt to cover the smoke smell and create atmosphere. A few more found their way onto the bedside table and dresser, and the sweet-spice smell of the rose petals blended with the smooth vanilla scent.

“Perfect,” Keith nodded, satisfied that his centrepiece was being used for a better purpose.

Keith then returned to the kitchen and decided to open the champagne. Hunk wouldn’t be mad if he started on it early, and he felt like he deserved a glass now. The wire cork cover peeled away easily, but the cork was proving more difficult, especially with Shiro’s stupid mechanical corkscrew that was too narrow for a champagne cork, and his throbbing thumb. Keith at last had it nearly off and aimed the bottle, by now shaken, towards the ceiling.

The cork went flying:  
POP… CRASH!

Suddenly the light went out and Keith was showered with glass even as the champagne spilled onto the floor and his pants.

“FUCK!”

Keith stepped out carefully over the glass, still having to extract one small piece from his foot, and put his shoes on. Usually he and Shiro kept a shoeless household, but he needed them to clean up the floor, especially since he had to do it in the dark now. With the light from the living room spilling in and the taper candle from the table Keith managed to satisfactorily clean up the glass. Thankfully the lid had been on the rice so there were no shards in it. He peered into the pot and frowned, turning it down to a low simmer since he didn’t want to burn it. It was far from being cooked, and he only had a few minutes before Hunk was due.  
Keith’s went back to his room to change and then stopped in his tracks as the curtains, blowing in with a cold winter breeze, caught on a scented candle and suddenly started to go up in flames.

“Seriously?” Keith groaned. He grabbed the entire curtain rod by the end, yanked it down, and tossed it out the open window where it landed with a clatter.

Keith was close to crying. His stress suddenly bubbled up and took over, his headache returning along with a fierce coughing fit and pressure behind his sinuses. He had the notion that he might be coming down with something, and it was just another bad thing on top of all the other bad things. All Keith had wanted was a nice date with his sunshine boy, but the universe was apparently conspiring against that. How much bad luck could one person have?

***

“Keith?” Hunk asked, sliding the front door to Shiro and Keith’s apartment open. “Where are you? I’m sorry I’m late, it was a busy night, but I brought us some dessert, compliments of my boss.”

“Huh?” Hunk tilted his head at the table laid out, two glasses of champagne at the ready, rose petals twirling in the cold winter breeze coming in through the window. He quickly shut the window and crept slowly to Keith’s bedroom. Inside he heard muffled sobbing.

“Babe?” Hunk cracked open the door.

The window was wide open in this room too so Hunk addressed that first, wrinkling his nose at the smell of burnt fabric. Keith was huddled on his bed under a crochet blanket Allura had made for him for Christmas, his boots on his feet on the bed.

Keith’s crying slowed down, “Hunk?”

His voice sounded so broken that Hunk’s heart ached for him, “What’s the matter Keith?”

“I just wanted…” Keith sniffled. “I wanted to have a nice date night, but instead… I… it’s all ruined. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Hunk reassured. “Here, blow your nose.” Hunk handed Keith a fistful of tissues plucked from a nearby box.

Keith obliged while Hunk gently took off Keith’s boots for him. “Your clothes are wet.” He commented, observing Keith’s slight shivering.

“Champagne spilled when I opened the bottle.”

“Let me get you some dry ones.”

Hunk pulled out Keith’s flannel pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt for him. Keith resisted at first, but Hunk said firmly, “You’re freezing babe. Here, you need a sweater too.”

It was Hunk’s own hoodie and Keith settled into it, still warm with body heat. He coughed into a balled fist and Hunk frowned, observing the pink cheeks on Keith’s otherwise pale skin. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m sorry for being so pathetic… it’s just… I burnt the fish, the rice isn’t finished, the cake fell on the floor, I cut my thumb and my face, I slipped getting out of the tub, the roses fell apart, and then the cork broke the light in the kitchen and we don’t have any bulbs. Oh, and the curtains caught fire.”

“What did you do with them?”

“I threw them out the window.”

Hunk snorted in amusement, “You threw the curtains out the window?”

“Curtain rod and all.”

Hunk laughed his deep, warm belly laugh that filled the room with a warmth like June, and eventually Keith joined in. With the laughter the tension and stress of the day dissipated. Keith visibly relaxed in the presence of his sunshine boy.

“I’m so sorry your day was bad.” Hunk kissed his boyfriend on the cheek.

“I tried to make it nice, I really did.”

“I know, I can tell… and we can still have a nice night. Let’s go to the kitchen and see what we’re working with.”

Hunk picked Keith up and set him on the kitchen counter while he went to the living room and snagged a bulb from a reading lamp. He carefully unscrewed the broken bulb and then screwed in the filched bulb. The room lit up.

Hunk gave the room another sweep, since there were fragments of bulb Keith had missed in the dark, and Keith fetched them each a glass of pink champagne and sat back up on the counter again.

Hunk surveyed the fish. “Yup. That’s well-done.”

Keith coughed again and Hunk lifted the lid on the Spanish rice. “Hmmm,” he contemplated, the gears turning in his head, “This however smells yummy. How would you feel about tomato-rice soup?”

“Soup?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, I can make this tasty, and you’re chilled right through from having the windows open, right?”

“I guess,” Keith admitted.

“Do you think you might be catching Lance’s cold?” Hunk asked, trying to keep his tone even so Keith wouldn’t go into denial mode.

Keith shrugged and mumbled a soft, “Maybe.”

“We’ll have dessert before dinner.” Hunk said decisively, “We can watch a movie while I finish cooking this, it won’t take much.”

“I was supposed to be giving you a nice date night…” Keith protested even as he followed Hunk into the living room. Hunk got the television going and quickly selected an old favourite film of his that was appropriate for both a date and a night-in.

“ _The Princess Bride_?” Keith asked. “Isn’t this a kid’s movie?”

“It’s an everyone movie.” Hunk insisted, “You haven’t seen it?”

Keith shook his head.

“Oh babe,” Hunk grinned. “You are in for a good time.”

Hunk got Keith settled onto the couch with his blanket. Hot tea and a slice of vegan cheesecake soon followed.

“I know, it’s all this vegan gluten-free nonsense from work.” Hunk said, “But it’s dairy-free and you have got to try this. We used cashews and coconut cream and it’s actually, no lies, I promise, cross-my-heart, delicious.”

“If you made it I’m sure it is.”

Keith moaned when the cheesecake hit his tongue. Hunk joined him on the couch a moment later with their champagne glasses refilled.

" _That day,_ ” the grandfather in the film narrated, “ _She was amazed to discover that when he was saying 'As you wish', what he meant was, 'I love you.' And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back._ "


End file.
